Days I Lost
by Tairi Soraryu
Summary: Kyou angsttragedy. “How Do You Get that Lonely?” How do you make the decision that no life at all is better than the life you have? And how will those you leave behind react when you’re gone? Chapter 3 uploaded.
1. The Days I Lived

Disclaimer: I don't own Kyou or the rest of the Furuba gang. I do, however, take sadistic joy in putting them through the gauntlet time and time again.

I was half-asleep when the idea hit me this morning. Waking to angst is a beautiful, beautiful thing, isn't it?

* * *

**The Days I Lost**

Yuki hated funerals.

The weeping, the muted sorrow, the grief coated with manners and hidden behind handkerchiefs. The shameless, open tears of those brave enough to stand strong despite the pain that shattered their lives. The suffocating floral scent of countless bouquets running the length of the funeral parlor, the massive displays flanking the dark gray urn at the front of the room. Everything that was left. The last remains.

It was too dark a color, he thought, for someone who had been so _bright_ in life.

Beside him, dressed in stiff and formal black, Tooru sat with her fingers knotted in her lap as if to suppress the tremors that ran through her slender frame, sniffling quietly as tears trickled down her cheeks. He wished he had the courage to reach out to cover her hands with his, but instead he bowed his head and listened to the heavy non-silence of the crowded room.

Who'd have thought that the he would have been so popular in death?

_It was just another story written on the second page  
Underneath the Tiger's football score  
It said he was only eighteen, a boy about my age  
They found him face down on the bedroom floor_

_It could have been,_ Yuki thought, lifting his empty gaze to the front of the room where somebody or other was making a speech that was meaningless to those who knew him, who had truly _known_ him. _He could have been nothing more than a statistic, an obituary in the paper I don't read. He could have been nothing to me…_

To his left, Kagura sat, stony-faced and terrible in her silent grief. It was a little disturbing, how determined she seemed not to show any sort of pain. She was, perhaps, the one most impacted by his death, and yet she, of all of them, was the only one who let nothing show. Her beautiful brown eyes were glassy, with shock, and dead as the body that lay before in the small ceramic jar, where he would sleep forever, protected from the world that hadn't loved him.

Beyond Kagura, Yuki could see from the corner of his eye the forms of the other Juunishi—Momiji, his wails stifled by the large handkerchief he'd stuffed into his mouth; Kisa, wrapped in Hiro's arms as she sobbed into his shirt; Haru, face slack and pale in disbelieving anguish; Rin, who couldn't hide the tears that slipped from her eyes; Ayame, Hatori, Ritsu, silent and still as they sat, immobile, paralyzed by the latest horror that had ravaged the Souma family.

_It could have been just a story,_ Yuki kept thinking, his heart aching for the friend he hadn't known he'd had. _And instead…it's unbearably real. This is my life._

_There'll be services on Friday at the Lawrence Funeral Home  
Then out on Mooresville highway, they'll lay him 'neath a stone..._

What would their classmates think? Yuki's throat tightened suddenly, choking, and he dragged in a ragged breath as tears swamped his eyes. Uotani and Hanajima sat beyond Tooru, Hanajima rather conservative in a simple black sheath, Uotani wearing her Red Butterfly trench coat over a long black skirt and matching tunic. How would their teacher explain to the class, to those who'd grown to love him as a friend, as one of them?

What would he say at the school-wide meeting the principal wanted to call to address the issue? What could he tell them? Yuki tilted his face back in the efforts that gravity would drain away his tears before they revealed themselves to the world.

Yuki, the impassive; Yuki, the cold-hearted; Yuki, whom _he_ would never beat; Yuki, the hated mouse Yuki, was crying for Kyou.

_How do you get that lonely, how do you hurt that bad?  
To make you make the call, that havin' no life at all  
Is better than the life that you had_

Yuki looked to the pew on the other side of the center aisle, where the other half of the family closest to the deceased sat. Shihan had the first spot, dressed in a black kimono. His hands were folded in his lap with his usual unflappable composure, but Yuki could see the lines strain had etched around the corners of his eyes, the tightness around his mouth. Kunimitsu sat behind him, weeping unashamedly into his hands, as Yuki knew many of the other students who attended Shihan's karate dojo were, sprinkled throughout the large hall.

Akito sat in that first pew, and Yuki felt a sharp, hot stab of resentment. What had that man ever done for any of them? For Kyou? What right did he have to sit there and claim he cared? Beside Akito, sad and impassive as ever, Kureno wore one of his ubiquitous dark suits; beside him was Shigure, looking mournful—though whether it was genuine remorse or simply another façade, Yuki didn't know, and didn't trust the look in Shigure's eyes.

Mayu-chan-sensei, their teacher, was somewhere in the room. Yuki had been mildly surprised to see her there, but she'd merely shrugged and managed a weak little smile. "He's…He was one of mine, too," she'd said by way of explanation, but he could see the pain clearly in her eyes.

_Will I have this sort of effect,_ Yuki thought with a surreptitious glance around the room. _Will this many people mourn me when I die?_

_How do you feel so empty, you want to let it all go  
How do you get that lonely... and nobody know_

Who'd have known Kyou had been planning this for so long? Yuki could still remember the horror of the moment, the guilt that swept through him fresh at the memory. He'd been so annoyed, so _irritated_ at having to wake up the lazy cat that morning; it hadn't even crossed his mind that something might have been wrong. Since when did Yuki ever get up before Kyou? But he'd been so aggravated he'd just banged the door wide open, flipping on the light and sneering out a sarcastic—and, he thought with a pained little sob of breath, oh-so-typical—morning greeting.

And the blood.

It had splashed the walls, pooled and gelled and dried over the floor, stained the bedspreads, splattered the window. The entire room was like a personal little hell, and Yuki swallowed as the memory threatened to sweep him away. The soft touch of fingers on his wrist jerked him back to the present, and he turned his head to find Tooru looking at him worriedly.

He managed a small, reassuring smile, which she returned with effort, before turning back to whatever inner world she was lost in. They were all so lost, weren't they?

_Did his girlfriend break up with him, did he buy or steal that gun?  
Did he lose a fight with drugs or alcohol?  
Did his Mom and Daddy forget to say I love you son?  
Did no one see the writing on the wall?_

They'd found the letters, buried in the bottom of his desk drawer. Long, raging pages of incoherent nonsense that burned to read. Yuki could remember sitting in the living room late into the night with Haru and Momiji—the only two he'd trusted with the contents of Kyou's most personal thoughts—and time and time again having to take a walk outside to cleanse the scorching pain that the words Kyou had written evoked in his heart.

Desperation. Loneliness. Emptiness. Hopelessness. Isolation. Fear. Terror. Anguish. And, in the end, the only salvation he could find.

Kami-sama only knew where Kyou had gotten the gun. Yuki felt another wave of misery roll through him as he squeezed his eyes shut. Nobody had heard the shot that night, so he must have already been…_gone_…when he and Tooru returned from their double-date with Haru and Rin. Shigure had said he'd be spending the night at the main house, and they hadn't gotten in until after midnight.

Yuki hadn't mentioned that minor detail to Tooru. She'd been too tired to even bid Kyou good-night, and Yuki knew she'd find some way to blame herself for what had happened.

So he'd assume the guilt instead.

_I'm not blamin' anybody, we all do the best we can  
I know hindsight's 20/20, but I still don't understand..._

They'd fought—they'd actually _fought_—over who would carry the urn and lower his ashes into the ground. It had been a short and vicious battle, filled with hateful words and, on Kagura's part, a few broken pieces of furniture, but Rin had, surprisingly, been the one to settle it.

She hadn't, of course, been involved in the fighting. For reasons Yuki didn't quite understand—other than both of their individual personalities—Rin and Kyou had never really gotten along.

"Kazuma should do it," she'd said simply, and that was that. They'd subsided, recognizing the logic of her statement, and ashamed at their foolishness for fighting over something that was his right from the beginning. He was Kyou's father in every way that counted. He was the one who'd shown Kyou how to live.

He would be the one to lay Kyou to rest.

_How do you get that lonely, how do you hurt that bad  
To make you make the call, that havin' no life at all  
Is better than the life that you had_

Tears flowed freely as they huddled around the small grave in the cemetery far from the main Souma complex. It was fitting, Yuki decided as he wiped the back of his hand under his nose and hunched his shoulders against the icy wind that sliced through the thickness of his wool jacket as if it weren't even there. To be laid to rest beside Shihan's grandfather, in this pretty little temple beneath a cherry tree. The city sounds were far off and muted, and the sky overhead was a light slate gray the same color as his tombstone.

It was a nice place, he thought, to spend the rest of eternity. Peaceful and quiet and lovely, everything his life was not.

They were a small party now, just Kyou's closest friends—what one could have considered his 'friends', anyway—gathered around the small hole in the ground. Akito hadn't joined them, nor had they particularly invited him; after some resentful good-byes, the younger Juunishi had followed Kazuma in the rented limo across the city to the small cemetery where Kyou would be buried.

There was another, smaller, ceremony, and then Kazuma knelt in the dirt and carefully lowered the urn into the hole in the ground. "Good-bye, Kyou," he whispered, head bent. His tears dripped onto the ground, soaked into the dark earth. "I love you…son."

He stood, sniffling, and fought to regain the self-control that was as much a part of him as his karate dojo and his habitual kimono. Tooru silently offered him a clean tissue, which he accepted gratefully, turning his face to wipe at the tears that tracked silently down his cheeks.

There was a moment's awkward hesitation while they looked at each other. Finally Momiji gave Yuki a small push forward. "You go first," he said, tears bright in his eyes. "It seems right that way."

And as Yuki knelt to toss the first handful of dirt over the urn in the symbolic first step to eternal peace, he thought that Momiji was right.

_How do you feel so empty, you want to let it all go  
How do you get that lonely... and nobody know?

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2.6.05 _

First fic update in months. I so, so, so sorry for the long delay! I hope you like this. The lyrics belong to Blaine Larsen, and I thank him for the song **How Do You Get That Lonely?**, whose words and sentiments I stole without remorse. I've heard it before, but couldn't put it to the proper plot until this morning. I miss Kyou-kun, but he's still the main character here, in a roundabout way…Please let me know what you thought!

Glossary:  
Juunishi—12 zodiac animals  
Kami-sama—God  
Shihan—Souma Kazuma. Kyou's karate instructor (he calls him Shishou). Yuki, Kagura, Haru call him 'Shihan'. Rin calls him Kazuma


	2. The Days I Loved

Disclaimer: I'd like to take a moment to thank my sponsors for supporting my endeavors thus far. Asahi beer has helped greatly in my writing forays…What? What? I'm too young to admit I consume alcohol? Great, now the law's gonna come after me…

Figured I'd give this a shot at a multi-chapter. We'll see how it goes.

**The Days I Lost **

_Chapter Two:  
__The Days I Loved_

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"Kyou no _baka_!" 

The infuriated exclamation was followed by the shattering of pottery against a tree trunk, and Yuki stared at the broken shards of clay, as appalled as exhilarated by his uncharacteristic display of violence. His chest heaved with the sudden exertion, and he caught himself looking around for another pot to smash; exercising his impressive willpower, he restrained the unexpected urge to destroy everything breakable in sight, clenching his fists impotently at his sides.

"Kyou, you _idiot_," Yuki repeated, no less vehemently than his first outburst. He glared at the well-tended garden patch in the middle of the small clearing, the forest rising calm and quiet around him, the soothing presence unable to erase the black fog that choked his heart. Anger, vile and bitter, spewed into his throat, and Yuki spat the words into the air, hoping, wanting to wound.

"Take the easy way out, huh? Leave all the rest of us behind to clean up your mess, will you? Because when you're gone, it's up to _us_ to take care of everything you ran away from without finishing, you coward!"

The sorrow and pain and regret-tinged guilt that had swamped him during the funeral had passed, leaving him hollowed-out and edgy, and had been replaced with an all-consuming and altogether unfamiliar feeling of rage. It was a burning rage, one that consumed like a fire rampant in his blood, and Yuki whirled, storming up the rows of his small garden patch. Fragile stems broke beneath his sneakers, but he barely noticed the quiet cries of greenery as he killed plants and ruined months of careful work.

It was only poetic justice that he unconsciously chose the leeks to crush beneath his cruel and unrepentant feet.

"You think that this is the only way you're going to win, **_BAKANEKO!_**"

Yuki stopped, staring behind him at the rows of flattened, trampled leeks as if he hadn't fully been aware of his actions until that moment. Well. He passed a hand over his face, ran his fingers through his hair in a rare display of weariness. Perhaps Kyou's uncontrollable temper hadn't died with him after all.

Yuki lowered himself slowly onto the dead tree stump he often used as a seat when he felt overwhelmed and had to escape to the solitude of his little field.

Silence settled around him, tentative, like sunshine shining timidly out between angry clouds in the slight break between storms, apologetic for its absence, afraid of retribution. Birds chirped in the forest, and Yuki caught the slight shift that was the feet of small animals—squirrels, mice, grasshoppers—moving over the winter grass and forest floor. The air was icy as it flowed around him, stinging his cheeks, and Yuki tugged his jacket closer around his shoulders as the mid-afternoon chill began to register in his mind.

Temper passed, leaving him as empty as before. Cursing Kyou had done nothing—had never done anything, Yuki admitted. Blaming him was meaningless now. Always had been. How could you assign the guilt to someone who was already so tainted by the knowledge of his own culpability?

The first wave of emotion had been guilt, and had left him exhausted. The second was anger, a reflexive and unstoppable rush to blame someone, something, anything, for the senseless loss of life. It was _wrong_ for someone as young and healthy and vivid as Kyou had been to die. To take his own life…

_It's a family tradition, now._

Yuki banished the thought. Sorrow reigned now, heavy and silver-edged, blue on the inside with nothing but pure mourning for the orange-headed boy who had been the closest thing Yuki had had to a 'best friend'. There was nothing traditional about taking one's own life. Even if Kyou's own mother had done so didn't predispose Kyou to the same fate, to the same inclinations.

Just because your parents were monsters didn't mean you were, too, did it?

"Why did you do it, then?" Yuki tipped his face back to stare at the pale, washed-out sky overhead. There were no discernible clouds, merely a sort of hazy covering that blurred the blue beyond, an omniscient presence that dampened the world. Light filtered through everywhere, as if the clouds were nothing more than gauze spread over all life below.

"Why did you do it, Kyou? What went wrong, so wrong, at the end? You had so much left, so much to live for. What went wrong that made you choose to go the way that leads to the one end you can never return from? The one choice you can't do anything to fix?" He felt tears, cool and filled with grief—simple grief, a clean sort of grief—slip down his face. "You'd already been through so much and come out so far ahead. Why give it up now? Kami-sama, Kyou…what happened?"

It was a question, Yuki knew, that would haunt him for a long, long time.

"Hey."

Yuki jerked, surprised, and sprang lightly to his feet to find Rin standing at the edge of the field. Her black eyes shifted from one side to the other, as if she were embarrassed to be there, and Yuki reached up to wipe the tears that stung on his cheeks. "Rin? What are you doing here?"

She still looked vaguely disturbed, as if she were treading on sacred ground with blasphemous boots—knee-high, high-heeled leather ones—but she approached him slowly. Realization tickled the back of Yuki's mind, and he guessed that she probably knew about how carefully he guarded this little secret of his. Rin didn't like collaborating with anybody on anything, and sharing a secret was definitely a team sort of game.

"Hiro wanted to talk to Tooru." She shrugged, her slender shoulders clad in thin black wool moving restlessly. "Something about how he wanted to ask her to talk to Kisa. Apparently she's been abnormally gloomy and depressed since Kyou's death." Rin was never known for her tact or her subtlety; if she noticed Yuki's wince at her blunt and less-than-sensitive reference to Kyou's…well, his _death_, she didn't mention it. Or take it into future notice.

"He thinks it has something to do with the fact that they're both cats—well, she _is_, he _was_, at least." Rin glanced at the broken leeks; her gaze flickered with something that was maybe pity, but her voice held the same bored sneer that was as inherent a part of her character as her bold sense of fashion. "Anyway, I said I'd keep him company on the way over. He's just a little kid, after all. Don't want him getting hurt."

Yuki wasn't quite sure what Rin thought she'd be protecting him from, but he kept his silence. Hiro was in seventh grade now—had time really passed that quickly?—and was certainly more than capable of guarding his own on the trip across town. How many times had he escorted Kisa over? But Yuki merely gave a mental shrug. If Rin wanted to come with Hiro, it wasn't any of his business what her ulterior motives were, was it?

"You haven't talked to Kagura after the funeral, have you?"

There was something altogether too offhanded about Rin's tone as she took a casual seat on the tree stump he'd just vacated, and Yuki's eyes narrowed reflexively. "No, I haven't seen her since. Of course, I don't make it a habit to visit the Souma main house. Is there something wrong with her?"

Rin shook her head, a little too flippantly for Yuki's comfort, and suspicion crowded into his dark gray eyes. "Oh, no, no, nothing's wrong. She's fine, considering the one person she's based her entire life on decided to up and off himself. I'd say her symptoms are pretty normal for someone who thinks their life has ended—she doesn't eat, she refuses to speak, she barely comes out of her room except to shower, she hasn't been outside the house since the funeral…Yesterday she took the portable DVD player to her room and locked herself in there for hours. When she came out, she looked as if she'd had the crying jag of the century." Something that looked like sympathy flashed across Rin's face. "She won't talk to me about what's wrong, which is weird. You'd think she'd trust me after all these years we've lived in the same house." She shrugged again. "Well, maybe it's because we've never socialized, really, outside sharing the same roof over our heads. Not like you, you know. You and Tooru and Kyou used to hang out with her a lot, didn't you?"

Surprised, not quite sure he was interpreting things right, Yuki blinked. His question was hesitant as he wondered how deeply he would offend the touchy girl. "Rin…are you asking me to talk to Kagura?"

Her dark eyes pierced him with one stabbing look. "I don't ask people for favors." Her voice was flat. "If you're thinking I'm doing this out of, I don't know, compassion or anything, you're wrong." And the tone of her voice indicated that she knew Yuki would see straight through her lies. "I'm not _asking_ you to do anything. I just came along with Hiro."

She straightened, glanced back over her shoulder. "He should have had enough time to talk to Tooru by now. He can't tolerate her for very long, anyway. He's a funny kid, that Hiro." Affection softened her voice, but it was gone by the time she looked back at Yuki through flat, expressionless eyes. "By the way, if you suddenly decide to come to the Souma house—you know, for some indiscernible reason—Kagura's mom works late on Thursday nights. Kagura's usually at home alone until around eleven, eleven-thirty. I'll be out with Haru after school every day this week, so, you know, it'd be nice if she could have some company."

It wasn't the subtlest of hints, but Yuki held his tongue against making any comments. She was doing a friend a favor, after all; no need to insult her for caring.

Rin started towards the path that would take her around Shigure's large holdings and to the front yard, but Yuki's voice stopped her. "Rin." She turned her head to look at him, his eyes earnest as they met hers unflinchingly. "Thank you."

Snorting, she waved a carelessly dismissive hand at him over her shoulder as she headed into the trees. _Believe me, Yuki._ Her thoughts were dark to match the worry that gnawed at her heart.

_You've got nothing to thank me for._

_

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_

2.12.05 

NOTES: Well, this one wasn't so bad. I'm sort of sad at having killed my Kyou-kun, who's usually my POV character, but I think this one will turn out all right without him to guide me. Yuki makes for an interesting vehicle, I think, very complex. And Rin is another one of my favorites, all mysterious and dark and edgy.

**Glossary:**

Baka—stupid, idiot  
Kami-sama—God  
_Kyou no baka_—"Kyou, you idiot"


	3. The Days I Wished

Hiatus break! Hopefully I'll get this one off the ground…Thank you to everyone for reviewing and encouraging me!

**WARNING! DO NOT READ ON UNLESS YOU HAVE READ MANGA VOLUME 12.**

Please, I have some spoilers in this chapter for Volume 12, and if you haven't read it, I suggest you wait. I don't want to ruin the story for you. And since I'm here, I might as well warn you I have some hideous spoilers planned through Volume 17 in future chapters, and it's some real serious stuff…

**

* * *

**

**The Days I Lost**

_Chapter Three_:  
_The Days I Wished_

The sun spilled pale, dying light past the unopened curtains of Kagura's bedroom window, and she moaned as she woke slowly from her restless mid-afternoon nap. Her throat was scratchy, dry and sore, and she didn't need to touch her face to know her eyes were swollen from crying. Everything felt stuffy and achy from the tears that refused to cease, and Kagura flopped listlessly onto her back to stare at the blank ceiling through dull brown eyes. Even as she lay there, thinking about trying to think about nothing, the tears welled up as they had all day, trickling down her face and into her hair.

There was nothing she could do to stop them.

Her head throbbed with the slow beat of her heart, and Kagura sniffled, swallowing the sob that built in her throat with an unbearable pressure. She slowly sat up, bracing her feet against the bare wooden floor, letting the icy shock flow up her legs. Her eyes fell upon the ripped wrapping spilling off her desk and onto the floor; shifted to the portable DVD player she'd taken from the living room and hadn't yet returned. The sob slipped past her lips on a whimper, and she curled her legs to her chest, hugging her arms around her knees and rocking herself for comfort.

_I don't know if you want to remember me as if I were alive…_

"Kyou-kun…" It was a broken whisper, a nearly soundless entreaty, and Kagura's body shook with the effort to control her tears. "Kyou-kun…"

"Kagura?"

The knock on her door had Kagura's head jerking around, but before she could deny entrance to whoever was calling, the door slid open, and Yuki stood in the doorway. His dark gray eyes were filled with sympathy, and he held a single flower in his hand. "Oh, you're awake. That's good." Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

Trapping her.

"…I don't want you here." Kagura turned her face away, struggling to ignore the shame that burned bright in her heart as she forced the hurtful words out. "I don't want to see you. Go away."

"I'm not going anywhere." True to his word, Yuki pulled over the desk chair and sat, facing Kagura. His face was sad but set, and he twirled the flower idly between his fingers. "How are you doing?"

There was a gentle inquiry in his voice, and Kagura had to fight the urge to respond in kind. "How do you think I'm doing? Leave me alone, Yun-chan." It came out as a desperate plea, and she buried her face against her knees. "Just leave me alone."

Yuki didn't hesitate, laying the flower on his vacated seat as he moved to sit beside Kagura on her bed, wrapping his arms lightly around her shoulders and drawing her against him. She stiffened for a moment, but he murmured reassuringly in her ear, and she gave up, gave in to the sobs that shook her body as she clenched her fists on his back and held him tight.

"Rin was worried about you," Yuki said as her tears abated slightly and the tremors wracking her body lessened. "We all are, Kagura. You haven't come out of your room since the funeral. Your mom said you aren't eating, either, and you haven't been to class all week. We're worried about you," he repeated. "We don't want you to hurt this much alone."

"Isn't that how it is, though?" Kagura turned grief-ravaged eyes on her cousin. "Isn't that our fate? To be alone? To hurt so much, so much, and to have no one there…To have no one care…Isn't that what happened to Kyou-kun? Isn't that what will happen to us all?"

Hysterics weren't going to help either of them any, and Yuki battled down the desolation that swamped him at her words, swallowing hard before replying quietly, "That's not true. You know that's not true. Are we really alone? If we were really alone, if nobody really cared, would we be worried about you? Hey." He drew her attention to him, reaching out to gently wipe at the tears that ran down her face. "We're here, together, Kagura. We're right here, with each other. We're not alone…Not anymore."

She merely turned away, and Yuki was silent. Why had Rin asked him to come? What did she think he could do? He, Yuki, who didn't know how to deal with his own emotions, much less anyone else's. What did she think he knew about helping Kagura heal?

His eyes focused on the portable DVD player on Kagura's desk, and Yuki glanced over at her still form. "Rin said you took the DVD player and locked yourself in the room the night after…the night after. What was it you wanted to watch?"

Kagura lifted those haunted eyes to him and whispered, as if in a trance, "He says he doesn't hate you."

Yuki's eyebrows lifted. "What? Who?"

"Kyou-kun. He says…He said he doesn't hate you. That it died when we put him in the ground. He told me." She tried for a smile, and nearly broke Yuki's heart. "He sent me a DVD. It came the day after the funeral service. It…It's in there, if you want to see." She gestured with one limp hand towards the player, then simply flopped backwards onto her bed. Yuki stood, wavered, then turned to straighten the tangled blankets and tuck them securely around her. Kagura, her eyes closed, didn't acknowledge him as she curled into the pillow, isolated in her solitude and grieving.

The DVD player hummed quietly as Yuki turned it on, adjusted the volume, and pressed 'play'.

Kyou's face blinked on screen, staring so intently out at him Yuki glanced over his shoulder involuntarily at the point of Kyou's focus. The orange-headed teen's face was lean and drawn, the lines of stress and fatigue clear to the eye—_now,_ Yuki thought bitterly. _Only now, when it's too late to see. Too late to do anything, to try…_There were shadows under those ruby eyes, in them, and his skin was pale, eerily translucent with a sort of luminescence that seemed to radiate hopelessness and pain as he started to speak.

_Hey…Kagura. Please, don't turn this off. I'm sure this is the last thing you need now. When you get this, everything will have ended, for me, and just begun for everyone else. I guess, in the end, I really was just a burden and an inconvenience to everyone, wasn't I?_

_Tooru once said that DVDs were great things, because you could see people as if they were really moving and talking. As if they were really alive. I don't know if you want to remember me as if I were alive…I can't imagine why you would, after everything I put you through. After everything wrong I did. But if you would just hear me out…It's the last thing I'll ever ask of you, and then, then I'll leave you. If not in peace, at least I'll leave you._

_I think you're probably…sad right now, aren't you? Maybe I'm just selfish, thinking like that. But maybe you're hurting, maybe you're missing me. Maybe you're wishing…I gave up wishing a long time ago. It doesn't change things, does it, wanting things to be different. They aren't, in the end. They're the same as how they started, just older, more tired, more worn out now. I guess that's a sad thing to say, after all._

_I told you thank you, that day. I meant it. I meant it then, and I mean it now. I'll never stop feeling grateful for what you did for me. For loving me. Despite everything. Because of everything. I didn't tell you then, but I will tell you now, I'm sorry. I mean this, too. What I said that day…I don't know if it was true. Ah, all I'm doing is hurting you anyway, aren't I? Even though I'll be dead. I'm hurting you, even in death. I must really be a monster…_

_I don't know if it was true. I said it, but…I wanted it to be true. I wanted it to be real. But it might not have been. It might never have been. Because if I never loved you, I never loved anyone else. You were my first friend, and for a long time, you were my only friend, and for that alone I could never do enough to thank you. You showed me what sunshine and happiness were, the warmth of friendship and a smile, the hope in a summer's sky. You took me from the shadows and played with me. You stole cookies from your mother's cookie jar and shared them with me in the shade of that big old oak tree in the park. You read to me, you played with me, you held my hand. You loved me…For whatever the reason, you loved me. And I said I couldn't—wouldn't—and it might have been a lie…_

_Now we'll never know. I'm hurting you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. To everyone. But mostly to you. Because even now, I'm leaving you with the biggest burden of all._

_Everyone might wonder what happened, why I did it—why I'm going to do it. What went wrong, right? 'What went wrong, Kyou?' Everything went wrong. Everything is wrong. Someday, you might make it right. But me, I'm just wrong, about everything. About everyone. You tell that to the kuso nezumi, all right? You tell Yuki, _I was wrong_. And when they put me in my grave, my hatred for him ends. Just like I said. 'I'll hate him 'til I die'. And after that…Maybe it'll just float away, like smoke on the breeze. Or maybe it'll just disappear, just like I will. Just gone._

_I learned something, something horrible. Something worse than me. And I can't stand it. I can't bear it, and I don't know what to do. So I'm going to do the only thing I can now, and that's to leave it all behind. I'm taking nothing with me, and I'm leaving it all for you to take care of. Yuki's thought of that, I'm sure. Tell him I beat him to it. I won, for once…I won._

_There are too many things left undone, and nothing I can do to end them now, so there's only one thing left._

_Good-bye, Kagura._

The screen went blank, and was as empty as Yuki, and he stared at the screen, numbness spreading through his heart. _I'm sorry…_

"…If you were sorry, why did you do it?" Anger spurted up out of nowhere, and Yuki whirled on Kagura, who had turned to lie on her side and was watching him soundlessly. "Why did he do it? That says _nothing_, it tells us nothing! It gives us nothing! He said he took nothing with him, he said he left it all behind. So why do we have nothing!"

Kagura's response cut Yuki's tirade through the middle. "We have each other, Yun-chan." Tears were flowing down both their faces, and Yuki slumped heavily into the chair in defeat. "We have each other."

* * *

7.17.05

To **Myukiori**-san: Akito's up next. Or soon. Depends on how well I stick to my plan…

**Glossary:**

kuso nezumi: lit., 'shit rat'. What Kyou calls Yuki when he's most irritated

Yun-chan: Kagura's term of address for Yuki


End file.
